


Vendetta

by setissma



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 09:10:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12603196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setissma/pseuds/setissma
Summary: “Well,” Hermione said. “That was…”“A spectacularly bad idea?” Draco said.





	Vendetta

“Well,” Hermione said. “That was…”

“A spectacularly bad idea?” Draco said. He still sounded a little out of breath.

“Definitely,” she said. “Really bad.”

“Do you want to do it again?” Draco said.

“God, yes,” Hermione said.

Half an hour later, she was trying to pin her hair up. She could see him in the mirror, buttoning his shirt.

“Presentable?” he said.

“Mmnn,” she said. She took one out of her mouth and got the last piece up.

“It looks better down,” he said. “You should leave it.”

“You have lipstick on your shirt,” she said. “Come over here.”

She spelled it clean, then straightened his collar.

“Are we talking about this?” Draco said.

“No,” Hermione said. “It was sex. We’ve had sex at least a thousand times before.”

“You’ve never turned down talking about anything,” Draco said, looking at her speculatively. “You’re going to spring it on me later, aren’t you?”

“I should probably go,” she said. “Harry’s going to be home soon.”

“Yes, and you can just pretend to be waiting for him,” Draco said. “Actually, that’s what you were doing before we –“ He did the buttons on his cuff, then undid them again, looking marginally irritated. “I can’t remember how I had these.”

“Apparently, I make bad decisions when wine is involved,” Hermione said. “They were fastened.”

“You didn’t even finish your glass,” Draco said. “And I asked you twice if you were sober.”

“I make bad decisions when you’re involved?” Hermione said.

“I can’t argue that one,” Draco said. “You married me.”

“Why is Harry at work without you, anyway?” Hermione said. “You two never do that.”

“My new boss decided that Aurors could only work so many hours in a week,” Draco said. “Due to said new policy, I may have been forced to come home. My desk disappeared.”

“That number of hours is a hundred, and it’s only Thursday,” Hermione said.

“I was three sentences from finishing a report,” Draco said, darkly. “Three. Now I have no desk.”

“It’ll be back Sunday,” Hermione said. She couldn’t find her other earring.

“You really need to modify the restriction clause on that,” Draco said. “It shouldn’t count hours if I’m asleep.”

“Try sleeping in your bed instead of in your office, then it won’t be a problem,” she said. “Have you seen –“

Draco went to look under the nightstand. “ _Accio_ ,” he said, then straightened. “And now I know where my watch went.”

By the time Harry walked in the door, she’d made it through half the pint of lo mein and another glass of wine.

“Oh, look,” he said. “You two have managed twenty minutes without a chaperone and no one’s committed homicide.”

“Too busy stuffing our faces with Chinese,” Hermione said.

“I was too distracted by orange chicken to think of it,” Draco agreed. “Although it’s probably for the best since you’d have to prosecute me.” He took another bite of fried rice. “Even if that means I’d get away with it.”

“What makes you think you’re winning?” Hermione said.

“Quick draw, darling,” Draco said, in a tone of voice she was only used to hearing in the bedroom.

“Harry –“ she said.

“Nope,” he said. “I’m Switzerland.”

“I was going to tell you we got you beef and broccoli,” she said, mildly.

“What, you managed to order take out together too?” Harry said. He went to flop next to Draco on the couch. “Who’s under Imperius?”

“I did it,” Draco said. “But she always gets the same thing, it’s not like it requires a joint effort.”

“Thanks for making consistent taste in Chinese food sound like a character flaw,” Hermione said.

“Don’t even start,” Harry said. “I’m allowed to work for eleven minutes tomorrow, I’m trying to decide if I should try finishing three files at once or whether I should do one and leave the rest for Sunday.”

“All three,” Draco said.

“Finish one,” Hermione said, simultaneously.

“Excellent, I’ll be the tie breaker,” Harry said, opening his chopsticks. “What I haven’t mentioned is that there are also files four through six. Those are overdue.”

“I can come sign everything Monday,” Hermione said. “But if you don’t stop sleeping in your office, I’m going to make a rule about that too.”

“God, you’re bossy,” Draco said. “Get two hundred cases finalized, put up a decent homicide clearance rate, do field work, go to trials, sleep in our actual flat, solve world hunger.”

“You have three people to do files for you,” Hermione said.

“They fuck everything up and then you send them back to us, so no,” Harry said. “Plus, Peterson from jewel theft keeps poaching all of them. Sort of ironic if you think about it.”

“You can’t simultaneously claim that they’re useless and that Peterson’s stealing them, Harry,” Hermione said, amused.

“Can and did,” Harry said. “Are you going back to work?”

“Probably not,” Hermione said.

“Hold on,” Draco said. “That’s the second out of character thing you’ve said tonight.”

“What was the other?” Harry said.

“Something about considering shrimp instead of chicken,” Draco lied. “Why aren’t you going back?”

“Oh, you know,” Hermione said. “I thought maybe I’d take a night off.”

“You don’t currently have a desk, do you?” Draco said. He sounded almost gleeful.

“I might have directed that memo to all Magical Law Enforcement staff,” she said. “I might not be able to edit the policy because I put in a sub-clause about not letting anyone in the Aurors make any changes that were against their own self-interest.” She refilled her wine glass. “I might have completely forgotten that the Department Head is technically also an Auror.”

“I didn’t actually see you today,” Harry said.

“Me either,” Draco said. “When did you get banned from the office, exactly?”

“At five?” she tried.

“Lying,” Harry said.

“No, I’m not,” Hermione said.

“She means five in the morning last night,” Draco said. “You are officially never allowed to say anything about me working too many hours ever again.”

“Well, that means we’re all stuck here for the night,” Harry said.

“Hermione could go home,” Draco said.

“Draco could leave,” Hermione said.

“I could go to bed,” Harry said. He actually sounded irritated. “You know what, I am going to bed. Have I told you how incredibly tired I am of refereeing your divorce?”

She was about to say something, but Harry got up off the couch and disappeared into his bedroom. He didn’t actually slam the door, but it was close.

“Were we –“ she said.

“Being worse than usual?” Draco said. “No. He’s had a bad week.”

“I’d go tell him that we’ve gotten a lot better in the last six months, but he might have a point,” Hermione said.

“I could probably be making more of an effort,” Draco said.

Hermione managed not to spill wine all over the coffee table, but it was a near miss. “Did you just admit that you weren’t completely in the right one hundred percent of the time?”

“Could you maybe, I don’t know, take something at face value?” Draco said. “Just the once?”

“Sorry,” Hermione said, finally. “I can – I’ll try harder too.”

“We did manage about an hour of not snapping at each other earlier,” Draco said. “World record?”

“We weren’t talking,” Hermione said, but he’d made her laugh.

“Still counts,” Draco said. “Do you think I should go in there?”

“No,” Hermione said. “If you try to force it, he’s just going to get more upset.”

“Do you think _you_ should go in there?” Draco said.

“Definitely not,” she said. “He’ll come out eventually. He probably won’t hate it if we’re at least pretending to get along when he does.”

“I can fake it if you can,” Draco said. “Oh, wait.”

“Smug is a terrible look on you,” Hermione said, but she was still laughing. “If we watch a movie, we don’t have to actually talk to each other.”

“I liked the earlier plan better,” Draco said. “But somehow I don’t think Harry would agree.”

“Probably not,” Hermione said.

Harry, for unknown reasons, liked television enough to have one, and Draco seemed to have taken sort of an anthropological approach to the whole thing.

“I can make popcorn later,” Hermione said. “Then we really don’t have to talk.”

“Deal,” Draco said. “Can you find one of the ones where muggles are irrationally terrified of perfectly normal things like poltergeists?”

Harry wandered out about half way through the movie, then stopped in the doorway.

“You’re still here,” he said, sounding surprised.

“We’re sorry for putting you in the middle of things,” Hermione said. “Want some popcorn?”

“I’m also willing to apologize for being argumentative, but only if you both shut up,” Draco said. “I think there’s about to be more muggles getting killed by things that don’t actually kill anyone.”

“You can quit hiding in your room if you want,” Hermione offered.

“Hermione can’t explain half the plot points, I need help,” Draco said.

“It’s not the best movie,” Hermione said. “As in, it doesn’t have a plot to explain.”

“Oh, my favorite kind,” Harry said. He came and stretched out next to Draco on the floor. Hermione offered him the bowl of popcorn.

“Sorry again,” she said, when she leaned to pass it.

“That’s okay,” Harry said. “I probably ought to be used to it by now.”

“We probably ought to be better at being divorced by now,” Draco said, dryly. “Although I did the math and I’m fairly sure we spend more time with each other than when we were living together.”

“Sorry I’m good at my job and got promoted and now have you keep the two of you from recklessly endangering yourselves,” Hermione said.

“I really liked it so much better when you were an Unspeakable and literally couldn’t say anything about work,” Draco mused. “It was nice. My desk never disappeared.”

“And it’d probably be easier to avoid me if you didn’t live with Harry,” Hermione pointed out.

“We basically go to work and sleep with occasional breaks for take out,” Harry said, with a yawn. “We might as well be able to ask each other about cases at four in the morning without using owls.”

“We’re usually at work at four in the morning,” Draco said.

“Meaning Harry should be able to stay awake through the end of this,” Hermione said.

“Wait, I think that’s a vampire,” Draco said. “Is that supposed to be a vampire? I thought this had ghosts.”

“I think it might have both,” Hermione said.

“Someday, we’ll actually watch a decent horror movie,” Harry said, but he’d reached for the popcorn.

“What, and be scared of ghosts like all the muggles?” Draco said. “Not likely.”

“Shh,” Hermione said. “We’ll make you miss all the critical details.”

Monday morning, she climbed the second flight of stairs up to the Auror offices.

“You rang?” she said.

“I did,” Draco said. “I’ve got –“ He thumbed through a stack of files. “Eleven things for you to sign off on.”

“Where’s Harry?” she said.

“We flipped for finishing all the authorizations for last month or reviewing Azkaban sentences,” he said.

“I’m guessing you lost,” Hermione said.

“I won, actually,” Draco said. “Who wants to spend the day with dementors?”

“You’re usually about twice as thorough as he is, so maybe it’s for the best,” Hermione said. “Where do you need me to initial?”

“Here,” Draco said, flipping open. “Also here. Here.” He was looking at her almost thoughtfully.

“This one isn’t finished,” Hermione said.

“I know,” he said, voice going low. “Yell at me about it.”

“What?” she said.

“Yell at me about it,” Draco suggested. “I promise there’s something in it for you.”

“But –“ Hermione said.

“Go with me on this one,” Draco said.

“Honestly,” she said, finally. “Can’t you even manage to put together a simple report?”

“You know I –“ Draco said, in his normal tone of voice.

“You’re wasting my time,” she said. “How is it possible I have to go over this with you again?”

“Hermione, let’s do this in front of the entire department _again_ , shall we?” Draco said, standing to shut the door.

She discovered the point of the entire exercise rather quickly after that.

When she could think again, she was still lying on Draco’s desk. He was leaning back in his desk chair, looking pleased with himself.

“I think I need three minutes,” she said. She was still breathing hard. “Okay, five. Then we can have sex. Maybe on the couch though.”

“We just had sex,” Draco said.

“Sort of,” Hermione said. “You could say I just had a lot of sex. I’m not so sure about you.”

“I’m good,” Draco said.

“Since when are you happy with just going down on me?” Hermione said, finally sitting up. “Actually, since when do you _want_ to?”

“I thought maybe I should reconsider my views on the subject,” Draco said. He reached past her for his cup of coffee. She wasn’t entirely sure how they’d managed not to knock it over.

“What, now?” Hermione said. “After three years? That’s –“ She stopped, then used her foot to pull his chair in, reaching to run her fingers through his hair. He slid a hand up the outside of her thigh.

“You know what,” she said. “I don’t actually think I care.”

“Oh, letting something go, that’s uncharted,” Draco said, but he nuzzled the inside of her wrist. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked it.”

“If I ever complain about getting off four times in half an hour, you have my permission to kill me,” Hermione said.

“You’re excellent at everything you’ve ever tried,” Draco said.

“What?” Hermione said.

“To answer your question. You’re good at everything,” Draco said, dryly. “Sex included. I’m not saying I didn’t always enjoy it, but…”

“Maybe not everything,” Hermione said. “What do you mean?”

“It made it a little hard to want to do anything I wasn’t already good at,” Draco said. “It was never actually that I didn’t want to. But the stakes are a little lower here, aren’t they?”

“Because we’re having completely inappropriate sex in your office?” Hermione said.

“What are you going to do if you don’t like it?” Draco said. “Decide you don’t want to be married to me anymore?”

“I thought that was sort of mutual,” Hermione said, finally. He wasn’t really trying to pull away.

“Mostly,” Draco said. “But the point stands.”

“You know,” Hermione murmured, “I don’t know how we ended up being this awful to each other all the time.”

“Me either,” Draco said. “Although we should probably try to work all that out without fooling around.”

“Maybe,” Hermione said.

“Are we still not talking about it?” Draco said.

“Let’s not and say we didn’t,” Hermione said, straightening her skirt.

“I was going to ask if you wanted me to come by later,” Draco said. “On the other hand, I think that probably undermines my position on saying we should stop doing this.”

Hermione laughed. “Come over,” she said. “I’ll make dinner. If you still don’t want to have sex, we won’t.”

“I think Harry’s right, you’re under Imperius,” Draco said. “You just offered to voluntarily spend time with me.”

“I used to like it,” Hermione said. “Actually, I still like it. It’s just sometimes better in theory than in application.”

“We just got in the habit of arguing over everything,” Draco said, thoughtfully. “But maybe we could try getting along instead.” He paused. “Is that what the sex is about?”

“The sex is about the fact that I haven’t had any in about nine months, and I like sex with you,” Hermione said. She leaned down to kiss him. “Quit reading into it.”

“Definitely imperius,” Draco said. “I’ll tell Harry I’m getting a drink with someone from accounting. He’s never been to accounting, so it’s not like he’s going to figure that one out.”

“Do you get drinks with people often enough that he’ll buy it?” Hermione said.

“Is there a right answer to this question?” Draco said.

“No,” Hermione said. “There isn’t a wrong one, anyway.”

“Sometimes,” Draco said. “I’m not actually any good at taking it past drinks, though.”

“I’m too busy for drinks, but I don’t think I’d be good at them either,” Hermione said. “Although, speaking of busy –“

“If anyone asks, you made me redo the entire report,” Draco said. “And watched me do it. With commentary.”

“I should probably be nicer to you if everyone’s going to believe that,” Hermione said, ruefully.

“It’s good for me,” Draco said. “I hate reports. Sometimes I do them badly on purpose.”

“Oh, like leaving a whole section blank to have an excuse to put your desk to better use?” Hermione said, laughing. She leaned down to kiss him again. “If that was you being bad at that, I’m not sure I’d live through you being good.”

“I might need more practice,” Draco said. “You know. At the whole report writing thing.”

“I’m thoroughly willing to start spending my lunch breaks in here,” Hermione said. “I’m a very generous boss.”

“Harry’s oblivious, but I’m not sure he’s that oblivious,” Draco said, amused. “Although we could always see what we could get away with.”

“I’ll just make him go do things in accounting,” Hermione said. “He won’t be able to find it. It’ll probably buy us at least an hour a day.”

“Excellent use of Ministry resources, that,” Draco said.

“I’m about to be late for my meeting for something or another,” Hermione said. “My secretary is going to have a fit.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Draco said. “Seven?”

“Maybe eight,” Hermione said. “I can probably make a decent argument for going to eat dinner at that point. I can always come back after.”

“And what if I want to keep you occupied?” Draco said.

“Maybe I’ll try not ending my work week on Thursday,” Hermione said. “It’d be an interesting change of pace.”

“I was thinking of trying to convince Harry that sleep might be in our best interest,” Draco said. “You should definitely lead by example.”

“I’ll think about it,” Hermione said. “See you tonight?”

“See you when I finish the next batch of reports, actually,” Draco said. “I think that round of signatures isn’t going to be quite as fun.”

“Well, you can’t have everything,” Hermione said.

Draco was a little late, but Hermione still barely managed to make it in the door before he showed up.

“Hi,” she said, answering the door when he knocked. “I’m making spaghetti. It’s not done because I can’t end meetings on time.”

Draco laughed. “I couldn’t get Harry to leave me alone. Something about the general inefficiency of the judicial system and hating his job.”

“There’s wine,” Hermione said. “That covers drinks. And I can talk about how useless everyone in accounting is while I cut the garlic bread if you want.”

“God, no,” Draco said. “Let’s talk about literally anything except work.”

“I don’t actually have a life outside work,” Hermione said. “Just for the record.”

“Me either, but we can pretend that we’re normal people,” Draco said. “So how was your imaginary shopping trip to Diagon Alley today?”

“I bought a new book,” Hermione said, amused.

“That means you bought five,” Draco said. “Possibly six.”

“Only four,” she said. “But one’s really long.”

She’d mostly finished the sauce, and the garlic bread was ready to come out of the oven. “Did you have fun playing fake Quidditch?”

“I beat Harry to the Snitch twice,” Draco said. “So yes, I had fun.” He was leaning on the island. “How was your actual day?”

“Full of meetings,” Hermione said. “And a prolonged presentation about the budget. Everyone in accounting really is useless.”

“I know, that’s why I don’t go on dates with them,” Draco said. He stepped behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and sliding a hand under her shirt. “I thought about it, by the way.”

“About what?” Hermione said, leaning back against him.

“The sex thing we’re not talking about,” Draco said. “It’s really an incredibly bad idea.”

“I know,” Hermione said. “We should probably stop this.”

“It also turns out that I don’t really care,” Draco said. He pulled her closer, kissing the curve of her neck.

“I’m never going to finish this if you keep doing that,” Hermione said.

“I don’t care about that either,” Draco said.

Later, he left her in bed and came back from the kitchen with the garlic bread.

“If we’re doing that again, I need something to eat,” he said, handing her the plate.

“We could just go eat dinner,” Hermione pointed out.

“By ‘if’ I mean ‘when,’” Draco said.

Hermione reached to take a piece, curling up against his side when he climbed back in bed.

“I thought about what you said,” she said.

He’d wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “The part where no one goes back to work and we stay here and have a lot of sex and eventually eat take out because the spaghetti sauce is very burned? I hadn’t gotten to that yet, but good foresight.”

“I think Harry’s going to notice if you’re gone for the entire night,” Hermione pointed out, trying not to laugh. “Sorry about dinner. You distracted me.”

“See, that’s the beauty of knowing his workaholic tendencies,” Draco said. “There’s absolutely no way he’s going to come home before three in the morning, so as long as I’m home before he is, I can pretend I came back and went to bed.”

“Except you never go back to bed, you go back to the office,” Hermione said. “Unless you’re hypothetically getting lucky with what’s-her-face from accounting.”

“He’d see through that one,” Draco said, vaguely. “What were you supposedly thinking about, anyway?”

“I just –“ Hermione said. She tilted her head to look up at him. “I don’t think I always left enough room for you in our marriage. And I didn’t tell you important things. Like that I’d much rather you be happy than seem perfect.”

“I wasn’t unhappy,” Draco said. “Well, all right, the end of it was fairly miserable.”

“I always thought our sex life was sort of the one thing we hadn’t royally fucked up,” Hermione said. “But I think I must have somewhere if you were under the impression I’d ever have been…” She considered, finally wrapping an arm back around him. “I don’t know. If you thought you couldn’t trust me in bed.”

“I didn’t think that, exactly,” Draco said.

“My point being, I’m sorry,” Hermione said. “Not that it’s the same thing, but if we’re doing this, maybe…”

“Maybe?” Draco said.

“I was going to say that you could let your guard down in bed,” Hermione said. “But that’s stupid, I know better. I’m pretty far past having earned that.”

“It’s not, actually,” Draco said. “I’m not entirely sure I know how to do it, though.”

“Maybe be honest with me,” Hermione said. “Maybe we can just…” She considered, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. “Do you want this to be off limits?”

“Off limits?” Draco said.

“We fought a lot,” Hermione said, carefully. “Well, we still do.” She ran her fingertips over his stomach, not entirely meeting his eyes. “The last six months, I think it’s probably fair to say that we were horrible to each other literally everywhere. Including in bed.”

“Getting into fights while you’re trying to have make up sex is probably an indication that things aren’t going well,” Draco said, dryly. “We probably should have taken the hint.”

“My point is,” Hermione said. “I said things I didn’t mean in the interest of scoring points. I don’t…” She looked at him. “It was wrong of me to do that before. About sex.”

“I actually do know that,” Draco said, finally. “That you didn’t mean all of it.”

“I want to not fight here,” Hermione said. “I want you to know that I’m not going to take advantage if you’re open with me about, I don’t know, sex.” She curled closer. “So my bed, your bed, and any other furniture we happen to be having sex on, off limits? I won’t say anything mean.”

“I could sort of go for that,” Draco said. “Although I’m still not saying I know how.”

“Mm,” Hermione said. “How about you tell me things you want and I give them to you?”

“I don’t think that’s how this works,” Draco said.

“It’s about to be exactly how this works,” Hermione said.

“You want me to just… trust you?” Draco said.

“I can’t promise we’re not going to try to kill each other the rest of the time,” Hermione said. “If I could promise that we’d probably still be married. But I can be careful in bed.”

“Yeah,” Draco said. He sounded exhausted. “That would be okay.”

“Here,” she said, putting the plate on the nightstand before she slid down, pulling the blankets back to make room. “Come down here.”

“Okay,” Draco agreed. 

She got close enough to kiss him, pulling the blankets all the way up over their heads.

“What are you doing?” Draco said, laughing.

“Do you remember that stupid trip with the tent that couldn’t keep water out and spending excessive amounts of time in a sleeping bag to not, I don’t know, freeze?”

“Pretty sure we weren’t spending excessive amounts of time in a sleeping bag to avoid the water and cold,” Draco said. “Given that we both have magic.”

“I seem to recall being very unwilling to make the suggestion that we waterproof the tent,” Hermione said, thoughtfully. “Can’t think why, though.”

Draco pulled her in closer. “You also hate camping,” he said. “I still can’t figure out why you agreed to the whole thing.”

“I really hate camping,” Hermione agreed.

“We could have just stayed in bed,” Draco said. “You should have suggested that.”

“You’re completely lacking in any sense of adventure,” Hermione said, kissing him again. “We’d never have had any fun sleeping bag sex if we’d stayed in bed.”

“I thought you were being nice to me,” Draco said, amused.

“My point is,” Hermione said, “I was completely willing to suffer through both camping and freezing rain just to have sex with you. I like sex with you. I think I should tell you that more often.”

“You’re ruining my ability to say no to the terrible idea sex,” Draco said, but he looked flushed and a little happy.

“You weren’t saying no anyway,” Hermione pointed out.

“I might have been,” Draco said. “I was going to develop willpower, but you’re really naked. And then when I’m not around you, I’m still thinking about how you look when you’re naked, so I can’t manage any willpower then either.”

“I was willing to go camping to have sex with you,” Hermione said. “Camping is much worse than getting divorced.”

Draco laughed. “I like it,” he said. “I can catch fish. Getting divorced has no fishing perks.”

“Apparently it does have better sex with your ex-wife perks,” Hermione said. “Who knew?”

“I’m not sure what you mean about this better thing,” Draco said. “Although the sneaking around is kind of hot.”

“Well,” Hermione said. “You can have anything you want, and you don’t have to worry about asking for it.” She kissed the curve of his jaw. “Actually, you don’t have to worry about anything.”

She could tell he was looking at her in the dark. “I want that,” he said, finally. “Only I don’t think I’ve ever actually had that with you, and I’m not sure I trust that you won’t use it against me.”

“That’s fair,” Hermione said. She reached to run her fingers through his hair, letting him lean into it. “Sex or sleep?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Draco said, solemnly. “That’s a very difficult decision.” He pulled her closer. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to try that. But I’m not saying it’s not a turn on.” 

Hermione laughed. “You could always ease into it,” she said. “Maybe start by asking for something you want.”

“I’m not good at that,” Draco said. “I’m more good at figuring out what you want and then asking for that instead.”

“It’s probably good you didn’t tell me that while we were still married,” Hermione said, dryly. “We’d probably have stopped being married.”

“What’s so bad about it?” Draco said. “I liked you being happy.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I’d have liked you being happy too?” Hermione said.

“No,” Draco admitted. “But I don’t really think I gave you the chance. And then I resented you for not figuring out what I wasn’t telling you.”

“I’m in fact really terrible at Occlumency,” Hermione said. “And Divination is also very out.”

Draco laughed. “Better late than never?”

“Very much so,” Hermione said. “But now I do know, so I’m going to make sure you’re not being stubborn about sex.” She stroked a hand down his spine. “Maybe I can figure out what you want and ask for it instead.”

“Do you think you… would have done that before?” Draco said. “If I’d said something?”

“Absolutely,” Hermione said, softly. “There are a lot of things I can’t promise I would have done differently, I’m not perfect.” She nuzzled his neck. “I was very not perfect. But this, I would have done something about.”

“Oh,” Draco said. He sounded almost thoughtful.

“Want me to return the favor from earlier?” Hermione said.

“You don’t like –“ Draco said.

She kissed him before he could get further. “I do, actually, I thought you didn’t,” she said. “But I think I’m just going to start over on what you like and not make stupid assumptions. Also, it’s a yes or no question.”

“Maybe,” Draco said.

“Well,” Hermione said. “You stay here and think about the two options, you can let me know what you think later. Tell me if you don’t like something. Or if you do.” She nuzzled his neck again, kissing over his shoulder.

“I think I might go with yes,” Draco said, after she’d started kissing her way down his stomach. “Hypothetically, I might really like the idea.”

“Not hypothetically, I do really like the idea,” Hermione said.

“I think I –“ Draco said. Hermione decided it was probably a good idea to shut him up.

She vaguely lost track of time, but after she’d finished, she was glad Draco still had a few hours to sleep before he went back.

“I think you may have to lie about sleeping with the girl from accounting after all,” she teased, reaching to rub the back of his neck.

“I know,” Draco said, rolling to bury his face against her neck. “I’m not sure I can manage tense and grouchy in the morning.” He settled in against her side. “Actually, I’m not sure I can manage tense again. Possibly ever.”

Hermione laughed. “I like you like this,” she said. “I’m not sure I knew you could get this unwound.”

“I don’t think _I_ knew,” Draco said, lifting his head to kiss her. “Hypothetically, if I were better at asking for things, I might want to know if we could do that again sometime.”

Hermione laughed. “You’re also bad at asking for hypotheticals,” she said. “We can do that again tomorrow morning if you want. I’m sure I have expense reports to go over with you.”

“Really?” Draco said.

“You might have to work a little bit on this whole thing though,” Hermione said. “I can’t send you back to Harry looking like you’re going to fall over.”

“Maybe one orgasm instead of three would leave me with more brain function,” Draco said. “I’m not sure.”

“I’ll just double book you,” Hermione said. “You can pretend to do Harry’s illegible expense reports too. Then if you want to get off three times and pass out on my couch after, you can.”

Draco lifted his head again to look at her. “If I said I did really want to,” he said. “What would you do?”

“Clear an hour in my schedule and feel significantly more enthusiastic about tomorrow?” Hermione said.

“Mm,” Draco said. He sounded drowsy. “Okay. I want to come do expense reports with you.”

“Sounds good to me,” Hermione said. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up.”

The next afternoon, Hermione went up to Harry and Draco’s office. They were bickering over something, which wasn’t all that unusual. She tried not to laugh.

“So,” she said, leaning in the doorway. She had a few files.

“Hi,” Draco said. He had his feet propped up on his desk and was eating some sort of curry, which he made no move to put down. He glanced at her a little too fast. Harry missed it, thankfully, because Harry was utterly oblivious. “What do you want?”

“Well,” Hermione said. “Do you want to know something funny?”

“Sure,” Harry said.

“No,” Draco said.

“I was doing this audit,” Hermione said. “Imagine my shock and surprise when I discovered that you have seventeen cases that didn’t get finalized last year.”

“That can’t be right,” Harry said.

“Oh, but it is,” Hermione said. “Aren’t you glad you have me to steer you on the path to actually finishing paperwork?”

“It’s paperwork,” Draco said. “We could be doing something interesting. Catching criminals, you know.”

“If it’s not finalized, it never gets entered into the system, and then we’ve got no idea with repeat offenders,” Hermione said. “We went over this last week. When you said you’d go through and finalize this year’s cases.”

“We definitely… did that,” Harry said. “I’ll go over them again tomorrow. Just to be sure. I can do those too.”

“Oh, no,” Hermione said. “I’m in meetings all afternoon, but since I happen to know you’re going to be here all evening, one of you can come by at nine to fix this mess. Dealer’s choice.”

“I will go to Azkaban the next three times if you do it, Potter,” Draco said. “Actually, I’m willing to spend an entire night at Azkaban if that’s what it takes.” He glanced at her again. “I’d rather show up at nine to a cell with a dementor.”

“That was mean even for you,” Harry said. “Knock it off.”

“Sorry,” Draco said, in a tone that implied that he really wasn’t.

“I’ll do it,” Harry said. “But we’ve got that stakeout thing on the smuggling case.”

“Were you going to tell me about that?” Hermione said.

“I forgot to tell you,” Draco said. “You shouldn’t have tortured me with thirty expense reports this morning if you wanted to be kept in the loop on investigations.”

“You should actually fill out expense reports on time, and then there wouldn’t be any torture,” Hermione said.

“The very act of filling out expense reports is torture,” Draco said.

“I’ll come up when we get back,” Harry said.

“Well, one more thing,” Hermione said. She dropped the files on his desk. “Whose handwriting is that?”

“Er, Draco’s?” Harry said. “You know that.”

“That’s really funny,” Hermione said. “Because you supposedly wrote up that case. Oh, look, this one too.”

“It could be mine,” Harry said, after a pause. “Sometimes Draco rewrites things to… make them neater?”

“Did Draco clean up every single case report last year?” Hermione said, mildly.

“Probably,” Draco said. “I was spending an exceptional amount of time in the office because my marriage was fucking terrible.”

“I know your… thing last night went badly and you’re in a bad mood, but seriously,” Harry said.

“Sorry,” Draco said again. It was still utterly insincere.

“Just change the authorship on the files,” Hermione said. “And then Draco can come upstairs and fix everything, since he wrote all of it.”

“Oh, good,” Draco said. “I’m so looking forward to that. An entire night spent going over case files with you, it’s like all my wildest fantasies have come true.”

“I’ll make sure to find some black robes,” Hermione said. “Bet I could even turn down the temperature in my office if you’d like to pretend you’re at Azkaban with a dementor.”

“Oh, darling, you know exactly what I like,” Draco drawled.

“Finalized case reports?” Hermione said, then reached to tip his chair.

“Totally uncalled for,” Draco said, from the floor.

“I think you maybe deserved that,” Harry said. “But I’m still Switzerland.”

“See you tonight, sweetheart,” Hermione said, cheerfully.

When Draco finally wandered into her office that night, he was dripping wet and it was half past midnight. There was definitely melted snow in his hair.

“Hi,” he said. “I don’t suppose you have tea up here somewhere?”

“What happened?” Hermione said, coming out from behind her desk. She reached for him.

“Don’t, I’m only going to get you all wet too,” Draco said.

“Well,” Hermione said, thoughtfully. She sat on the edge of her desk.

“I can’t enjoy the innuendo, I’m busy freezing to death,” Draco said. “Apparently the perfectly warm, dry car was too conspicuous for some people, so I had to resort to lurking in a ditch while someone else parked a mile away and used an eagle eye spell.”

Hermione triggered the lock on her office door. “That wasn’t a very good idea,” she said. “Was this ditch somehow filled with water?”

“No, it rained,” Draco said. “Then it snowed. I’m going to kill Harry.”

“Did you convince him you were coming up here to vindictively drip snow all over my rug?” Hermione said, laughing.

“I said I was stopping by the showers first,” Draco said. “I made sure to sound incredibly put out about having to do reports after getting hypothermia.”

“You’re cold enough to have been hanging around dementors, anyway,” Hermione said. She reached for him, then grabbed his wrist when he dodged. “I might be a step up.”

“Snogging you is definitely a step up from kissing dementors,” Draco agreed, letting her tug him in. “Although I’m currently too cold for sex. I can go back downstairs if you want. You might be too busy tonight.” He considered. “How many reports are there actually, anyway?”

“Two,” Hermione said, amused. “And one of them’s only a problem because you wrote it but Harry signed it. I just need you to sign it instead. The other one’s missing a page.”

“Bet I know exactly where it is,” Draco said. “Harry forgets to move things from the temporary to permanent files half the time.” He nuzzled her temple. “That was sort of inventive, by the way. I liked it.”

“I like fake fighting with you much better than real fighting with you,” Hermione murmured. “Everyone else went home hours ago. Want to go warm up at my place? We both know Harry’s going to avoid this floor like it’s on fire.”

“I’m not entirely sure I’m going to be up for anything even if I’m warm and you’re naked,” Draco said. “Lying in a ditch isn’t very conducive to wanting to have sex ever again. I really can go back downstairs.”

“I think we should extend the being nice to each other rule to my shower,” Hermione said, thoughtfully. “And my kitchen, I can make tea and add the tea to alcohol.” She pulled him close, wrapping her legs around his waist. He really was freezing. “And it already applies to my bed. I’ll find extra blankets.”

“You want me to come over and maybe not have sex,” Draco said, doubtfully.

“I do,” Hermione said. She kissed him. “We still might have sex. I’ll take my chances.”

“I would say those chances are like ninety-ten against,” Draco said.

“Mm,” Hermione said. “I also think you could maybe use a night off. I’m your boss. I can authorize that.”

“I took last night off,” Draco said.

“I have this really elaborate plan,” Hermione said. “It involves us actually sleeping on a regular basis. I’m still trying to figure out how to get Harry in on it without turning this into a threeway.”

Draco laughed. “He’d definitely rather spend the night at Azkaban,” he said. “He’d probably rather _live_ at Azkaban.”

“You should start shutting your door at night,” Hermione said. “Then I can climb in your window.”

“He’ll completely never notice that,” Draco said, then paused. “Okay, actually, he probably wouldn’t notice, we could get away with it. I already lock my door. It’s my not-so-subtle way of suggesting that I’ll kill him if he wakes me up.”

“I could sneak in,” Hermione said. “You could sneak out. There are so many possibilities.”

“I could be wrong,” Draco said. “But I really don’t remember ever having this much sex.”

“I didn’t want to…” Hermione laughed softly. “To add to my list of stupid decisions, I didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic in the beginning. I thought you’d figure out how much I liked you.”

“I did marry you,” Draco said, dryly. “You probably could have taken that as a strong suggestion I was interested.”

“I’m not the only one who could have initiated more,” Hermione said. “Although I’m openly admitting I could have been less of an idiot about it.”

“I didn’t want to be too pushy,” Draco said. “Women being less into sex is a thing.”

“Women being less into sex is a stupid stereotype,” Hermione corrected, kissing him again. “But I like the amount of sex we’re currently having. I’d probably like more if I didn’t need to run an entire Magical Law Enforcement division.”

“I like this side of you,” Draco said, dropping his head to her neck.

“You can like this side of me in the shower,” Hermione said. “We should stop talking and get you warm.”

“I might be up to eighty-twenty,” Draco said. “I guess those are good enough odds to come over.”

“I’d be fine with 100 to zero,” Hermione said. “Honestly.”

There was a direct link between the fireplace in her office and the one in her living room. Crookshanks liked hopping through it at inopportune times.

“Here,” she said, heading to turn on the hot water after Draco had followed her through.

“I could just climb in there,” Draco said. “It’s warm. I can’t possibly get any more soaked.”

“Give me thirty seconds,” Hermione said, pulling his jumper over his head. “The cold clothes aren’t going to help anything.”

“Since you appear to be insisting,” Draco said.

“I am,” Hermione agreed, pulling off his t-shirt and reaching to undo his belt buckle. “How am I supposed to increase my odds from twenty percent if you’re still dressed?”

“You’re going to have much better luck if you get undressed too,” Draco said. He paused when she reached to undo his jeans. “Do you care? Because I was serious about sort of not being in the mood. I can just take a shower and go –“

Hermione kissed him again. “You’re not going back to the office,” she said. “We’re taking a shower and going to bed. You can wake up at six and go get Harry.”

“I don’t like that he’s working and I’m not,” Draco said.

“I know,” Hermione said. “Me either, actually.” She considered. “You warm up, I’ll go over to your place and lock your bedroom, and then I’ll convince Harry that I sent you home so he has to go too. I’m actually kind of serious about making everyone start sleeping.”

“That’s sort of a lot of effort,” Draco said. “I could just go home and shower there and owl him.”

“Yes, but I want you in my bed,” Hermione said.

“Even if we’re not having sex?” Draco said.

“Even if we’re not having sex,” Hermione agreed.

“This plan probably means I don’t have to be up at six,” Draco said, thoughtfully. “I would be extraordinarily happy not to wake up at six. And he’s just going to think I’m sulking over the snow thing. Which isn’t entirely inaccurate. I would be if I weren’t about to see you naked.”

“Stay in there as long as you want, the hot water won’t run out,” Hermione said.

“That means I’m going to be in here when you get back,” Draco said.

Convincing Harry to go home was surprisingly easy – he looked as miserable as Draco had – and when she got back half an hour later, the shower was still running.

“I didn’t think you were serious about staying in the shower,” she said, laughing when she stuck her head in.

“I got out,” Draco said. “I made tea. I added firewhiskey to the tea. Then I decided I was still cold, so I got back in.”

“Are you drinking alcoholic tea in the shower?” Hermione said.

“It’s kind of like wine with a bath, isn’t it?” Draco said. “I mean. It might be. People do that.”

“Good idea, I’ll find wine,” Hermione said. “You stay put.”

“Hi,” Draco said, once she’d poured herself a glass of wine, undressed, and stepped into the shower. He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Have I mentioned that you look good naked?”

“A few times,” Hermione said, sliding her arms around his neck. “Less cold yet?”

“Getting there,” Draco said. “You’re nice and warm. It’s helping. Come closer. How was work?”

“I told Harry I was going to suspend him if he didn’t start getting some sleep,” Hermione said. “I think it worked.”

“If he sneaks back to work, at least I don’t have to feel guilty about it,” Draco said.

“I also told him I put up a bunch of monitoring charms,” Hermione said. “I said if he came back and set them off and woke me up, I was going to murder him and then bring him back from the dead just to suspend him.”

“I didn’t say it,” Draco said, “and if you quote me on this, I’m pretending not to know who you are, but you might be sort of better than our last boss.”

“Oh?” Hermione said, amused.

“We might have missed someone using dark objects on muggles due to losing reports,” Draco said. “We also might have not slept for like a year, it’s hard not to do stupid things when you’re exhausted.” He nuzzled her neck. “Also, he didn’t harass me into showers when I got cold on stakeouts and Harry never listened to him.”

“Harry never listens to anyone,” Hermione said. “And I think the shower thing might have been a little weird from someone other than me.”

“Actually, it’s still a little weird from you,” Draco said. “You always kind of left me to my own devices.”

“I didn’t want to fuss over you, everyone always says I’m terrible about that,” Hermione said. “But I may have gone so far in the other direction that I wasn’t supportive when I should have been.”

“I like this side of you too,” Draco said, kissing her. “It’s nice knowing you care enough to hassle me over attempting to get pneumonia.” He froze. “Or – cared enough before, I mean.”

“Still care,” Hermione corrected, stroking a thumb over the back of his neck. “Relax. The shower’s off limits too, I told you.”

“Yeah,” Draco said. He buried his face against her neck again. “Sorry. I got used to… everything we said to each other being loaded. Or at least it felt that way.”

“Well, you have a free pass in here,” Hermione said, gently. “Say whatever you want.”

“Did I never ask for your attention?” Draco said, finally. “I remember feeling like I wanted to come home to you, only it didn’t seem like you cared very much when I came back late or after spending all night in a ditch or something.”

“I don’t think you did,” Hermione said, softly. “On the other hand, it drove me crazy and I worried constantly and I wanted to…” She cupped his face in her hands to kiss him again. “Let’s just go with, I was always glad when you came home safely, and I should have told you. I was trying not to let on how much it mattered in case you thought I was trying to keep you from doing your job.”

“I was trying not to let on how much it mattered in case you resented my job,” Draco said. “Or thought I was choosing it over you.”

“I understood it,” Hermione said. She smiled. “I spent a decent amount of time doing metaphorical lurking in ditches and dodging nasty hexes. I just couldn’t talk about it. I miss the field work, actually. I talk a good game, but the level of paperwork is even wearing me out.”

“Just out of curiosity,” Draco said, “what proportion of your job are you actually devoting to getting me and Harry into line?”

“My entire job at the moment is trying to put out fires my predecessor started or ignored until they were engulfing an entire department,” Hermione said, dryly. “So right now, I’d say the Aurors are taking up about twenty percent of my time. You’re above Misuse of Magic but below the horrific disaster that’s currently the Wizengamot.”

“That’s only half an answer,” Draco said.

“Out of the twenty percent that’s going to the Aurors,” Hermione said, trying not to laugh, “I’d say something like eighty percent is trying to keep you and Harry from doing stupid things and cleaning up your paperwork trail.”

“Hmm,” Draco said. “I might like taking up eight percent of your overall work effort.”

“Probably more like six,” Hermione said. “Harry’s a lot worse at reports.”

“I should work on that,” Draco said. “I might need more guidance to make sure I’m following appropriate protocols, though. I’d be willing to suffer through more private meetings.”

“You follow absolutely no protocols,” Hermione said, laughing. “But you two also have about triple the clearance rate of any other set of partners, so I guess I’m going to have to live with it.”

“I think I might need you to use all six percent to get me from here to bed,” Draco said. “I only halfway slept when I got back last night.” He looked at her for a minute. “Are you going to get mad if I admit that I’m still terrible at sleeping without you?”

“My office is literally connected to my living room,” Hermione said. “I have a thirty second commute. And I still sleep on the couch at work most nights. You can read into that if you want.”

“I might want to,” Draco said. “It makes me feel a little less pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Hermione said. “I put extra blankets on the bed.” She rested her forehead against his for a moment. “Go get in, I’ll come as soon as I finish actually showering. I have plans for you.”

“Still not sure I’m up for sex,” Draco said.

Hermione laughed. “My plans involve getting rid of this knot –“ She rubbed her thumb against his shoulder. “And then letting you sleep as late as you want.”

“Have I told you lately that you’re perfect?” Draco said. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m very not perfect, but I’m glad you like the idea,” Hermione said, kissing his temple. “Go get in bed. I won’t be mad if you’re asleep when I get there.”

“Since I’m allowed to say anything I want in the shower,” Draco said, “I’m going to tell you that you’re perfect again.” He grinned. “You aren’t allowed to argue with me. You promised.”

“Quit taking advantage of loopholes,” Hermione said.

“Oh, all right,” Draco said. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

When she came into the bedroom, toweling off her hair, he was still awake.

“Warm enough?” she said, climbing under the blankets with him.

“Now I am,” he said, moving over so she could get in. “You didn’t have to warm up the bed. Or make more tea.”

“No, but I wanted to,” Hermione said. “I’m glad you didn’t freeze to death in a ditch.” She shifted to kiss him again. “And glad you’re sleeping here tonight.”

“I missed this,” Draco murmured, then paused again.

“The bed’s still off limits,” Hermione said, a little amused. “I’d say I missed it except I like this better.” She reached up to brush his hair out of his face. “Not having to pretend I don’t care is nice. The not fighting is nice too.”

“The not fighting is very nice,” Draco agreed. “I also think you said something about my shoulders.” He was watching her again, but he looked a little anxious. “Is the asking for what I want thing only for sex?”

“No,” Hermione said, stroking her palms up his back. “It’s for anything that’s not getting out of paperwork.”

“It sounded good,” Draco said, finally. “There’s a downside to working excessive hours and having a horrible desk chair.”

“As your boss, I can address several of those issues,” Hermione said, pressing her thumbs in against his spine.

“I’m hoping that’s the chair,” Draco said. “If it’s the part where you’re naked and offering to rub my shoulders, we might have to have a discussion about favoritism.”

Hermione laughed again. “That part’s just me,” she said. “In a very non-official capacity.”

Draco looked at her for another minute. “Would you mind seeing if you could work some of that out? My shoulders are a mess. Actually, I think my entire back might be a mess.”

“I would be very happy to,” Hermione said, nudging her nose against his. “I would also be very happy to go dig around in my dresser to see if I’ve got some sort of muscle relaxant. You can sleep it off.”

“Thanks,” Draco said, then reached a hand for her wrist when she started to get up. “Thank you. For making me feel okay asking for you.”

“I should have done that a long time ago,” Hermione said. “Like, I don’t know, somewhere around the third date.”

“I’m very stubborn,” Draco said, laughing. “It’s not entirely your fault.”

“You’re not allowed to be stubborn while you’re in the off-limits zone,” Hermione teased. “It’s in the rules. I came up with them, so I can expand them if I feel like it.”

“You are good at rules,” Draco agreed. “I’m willing to not be stubborn.” He stretched out. “I was thinking while I was lurking in snowy muck.”

“Oh?” Hermione said. She went to look in the medicine drawer.

“It feels kind of different at the moment,” Draco said. “I don’t know. Us. I was thinking maybe I’m going to take you up on that whole letting down my guard idea.”

“I’d be happy with that,” Hermione said.

“I wanted it a lot before,” Draco said. “Presumably I didn’t stop wanting it just because I decided to refuse to talk to you and then blame you for it.”

Hermione laughed. “You’ve maybe had better ideas,” she agreed, coming back over. “Here. This one doesn’t taste horrible.”

Draco took the vial and tossed it back, then made a face. “I thought we were being honest about potions that taste like cinnamon flavored cough syrup.”

“I’m still on the floor, there aren’t any floor rules,” Hermione said, then climbed back in under the blankets. “I promise not to lie about anything important.”

“That was very important,” Draco said. “My taste buds have all died.”

“Fortunately, there’s tea with whiskey in it,” Hermione said, reaching for his mug. “You’ll survive.”

“Doubtful,” Draco said. He ran a hand over her side. “We might have a minor problem.”

“Which is what?” Hermione said.

“This is either going to completely knock me out or really turn me on,” Draco said, thoughtfully. “I was leaning toward sleep, but now I’m not sure.”

“Oh, sex, I hate that so much,” Hermione said.

“Except I’m not going to be very useful at the whole sex thing,” Draco said. “Is that an issue? This morning was definitely more me than you.”

Hermione laughed. “I have a crazy suggestion,” she said. “Let’s quit keeping track.”

“That seems a little temporarily unfair,” Draco said.

“If we’re not keeping track, you don’t have to worry about temporarily anything,” Hermione said. “Besides, I decided last night that I have a thing for you being completely incoherent.” She reached up to press her thumbs against the base of his neck. “I like you on endorphins.”

“I’d argue with you, but I like being able to make you stop thinking too,” Draco said. “Don’t stop doing that.”

“I actually want to do all the work here,” Hermione said, kissing him. “If you like it and then actually get some sleep, I’ll be very happy.”

“Oh,” Draco said. He sounded a little surprised.

“Quit acting shocked that I like doing nice things to you,” Hermione said, laughing. “This isn’t new.”

“No, but me believing you sort of is,” Draco said. “I like it. I’m going to turn over a new leaf and insist you go rub my back. I’ll make it –“ He paused. “Okay, if we’re not keeping score, I’ll just do things I want to do to you in the morning and make us both late for work.”

“Good plan,” Hermione said. “Now roll over.”

The next morning, she came back from a meeting with the head of the Misuse of Magic office to find Harry lurking around outside her office. Her secretary looked somewhat intimidated, but then again, her secretary was generally terrified of most of the Aurors.

“What do you need? I have…“ Hermione glanced at her watch. “Four minutes.”

“This form, it’s permission for someone from the morgue to disclose a bunch of information to me,” Harry said. “Apparently I need a form now. And these two case files.” He cleared his throat. “I wrote them myself. You can tell from the handwriting.”

“Give that here,” Hermione said, gesturing for the form. “I’ll look over the case reports at lunch.” She smiled, a little ruefully. “I’m at least trying to keep on top of what’s going on in your department. I’m not sure I’m succeeding, exactly.”

“Speaking of things going on in my department,” Harry said, “did you get Draco a chair?”

“Requisitions and the people in charge of office furniture got Draco a chair,” Hermione said, fishing around in her drawer for a fountain pen.

“He said you got him a chair,” Harry said. “He also seems very happy with it. I would have expected more disparaging remarks about how the chair was completely inadequate.”

“I made sure it was a really nice chair,” Hermione said, signing the form.

“I think I’m also a little confused about why you got him a chair,” Harry said.

“He asked?” Hermione said. “I’m a benevolent boss when you get your case files turned in on time?”

“They’re not exactly all in,” Harry said.

“If you want a better chair, you can also ask,” Hermione said, amused. She handed the form back over. “I’ll go back down to purchasing and put in the paperwork.”

“Later this week,” Harry said. “Draco’s in a good mood since his chair is better than mine. I’m not going to ruin it.”

Hermione laughed. “You look a little less like the walking dead,” she said.

“Sleeping will do that to you,” Harry said.

“About that,” Hermione said. “No more working until four in the morning for either of us. I’m going to apply the rules to myself since I can’t very well expect you to follow them if I don’t.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Harry said, laughing. “You like working until four in the morning.”

“I realized I’m about twice as productive when I’ve slept in a real bed for more than four hours,” Hermione said. “I also realized that you two being stupidly sleep deprived is making your job a lot more dangerous than it should be.”

“I should probably want to fight you on this,” Harry said. “But I’m not going to win. And sleeping somewhere other than my desk was nice.”

“Smart choice,” Hermione said. “Want to do Chinese again? I’ll come drag you two home at eight.”

“Maybe you and I could go to your place,” Harry said. “I’m not really in the mood for all the arguing.”

“I think it might be all right,” Hermione said. “We’ll be good.”

“You always say that,” Harry said.

“Yes, but I don’t always mean it,” Hermione said. “I have to go see someone about hiring more people for administrative services.” She paused. “I don’t actually entirely know what administrative services does, but I guess I’m going to go find out. See you at eight?”

By the time they finished dinner and started a movie, Harry had been slowly sliding down the sofa for the last hour. He’d finally ended up with his head in her lap.

“One night off and you’re suddenly tired at eleven?” Hermione teased, running her fingers through his hair.

“I know,” Harry said. “I think you ruined me with sleep.” He looked up at her. “I think we might all be ruined, actually, you two haven’t said a single mean thing to each other all night.”

“I could start,” Draco said, laughing. “I’m willing to think of something.” He was lying on the floor. “You’re terrible for ordering too much food and opening a third bottle of wine, I’m never going to be able to get up again.”

“I know all your weaknesses and I’m prepared to use them against you,” Hermione teased. “Those fried pork rolls, for one.”

“This is weird,” Harry said. “But I might like it. You should give him chairs more often.”

“I’ll take a new one tomorrow,” Draco agreed.

“I can just fill your office with chairs,” Hermione said.

“I think I’m going to bed,” Harry said, yawning. “If you two want to keep getting along and finish this, I don’t care.”

“Yeah, okay,” Hermione said. “I’m morbidly curious about what’s going to happen with the swamp monster.”

“I’m attached to this one muggle and need to find out if she dies,” Draco agreed.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Harry said. “Maybe at like eight. I’m testing the limits of this new sleep policy. I was thinking I might try to get away with showing up at nine some morning next week.”

“Be careful, I’ll have to start writing you up for tardiness,” Hermione teased. She ruffled his hair. “Go get some rest.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said.

They actually finished the movie, although Draco took Harry’s spot on the couch part way through.

“I think he’s probably asleep,” Draco said, thoughtfully. “You might not have to sneak in the window.”

“I’m willing to skip that,” Hermione agreed, standing up. “I guess that means I’m staying?”

“I’d like you to,” Draco said. “If you’re not exhausted or sneaking back to work.”

“You check the silencing charms, I’ll hide my shoes,” Hermione said.

“I’m starting to feel vaguely like I’m having an affair,” Draco said, amused.

“Watch it, I’ll get lipstick on your collar again,” Hermione said, grinning. “You’ll have to claim you’re snogging the girl from accounting.”

“Maybe a different girl from accounting, the first one was purportedly a terrible date,” Draco said.

“Administrative services,” Hermione said. “I can’t even find their offices, I think they move around the building.”

“Perfect cover,” Draco agreed.

She came into the bedroom a minute later, locking the door behind her.

“Requests?” she said, going over to start unbuttoning his shirt.

“Maybe nothing fancy,” Draco said, kissing her. “Harry’s right, sleeping makes you want to sleep more.”

“I’m perfectly willing to just go to sleep,” Hermione said, amused.

“Shame, I’m not,” Draco said, spreading a hand against the small of her back.

“Look at you, standing on the floor and making reasonable requests,” Hermione teased, winding her arms around his neck.

“I could make some unreasonable requests too,” Draco said.

Hermione kissed him. “Fast or slow?”

“Slow,” Draco said. “Do you want to be on top?”

“We could wing it,” Hermione said.

“I don’t know, I sort of liked the whole twenty questions thing we used to do,” Draco said, kissing her again.

“In that case, yes,” Hermione said, laughing. “Lights on or off? I can’t even remember the list.”

“Just turn them down,” Draco said. “I can’t either.”

“If we move over here,” Hermione said, backing up to sit on the bed, “you can just ask for what you want.”

“I might like that strategy,” Draco agreed. She reached to finish undoing his buttons, then went for his belt.

After, when Draco had finally turned off the lights and she was almost asleep, she realized he was looking at her.

“Are you okay?” she said, softly, reaching to cup his jaw with her hand

“Maybe not,” he said. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not sure I like that answer,” Hermione said, cuddling closer.

“Can we maybe talk about this?” Draco said, finally. “I need to talk about this.”

“Sure,” Hermione said.

“I don’t think I –“ Draco stopped.

“Off limits,” Hermione said. “It’s okay. Just say it.”

“I want to be friends,” he said. “I don’t want to fight all the time. But I can’t keep doing this. It’s going to make me start wanting things I can’t have. Actually, I already want things I can’t have.”

“I’m listening,” Hermione said, quietly.

“That was sort of it,” Draco said. “You know how I feel about you, and you know I didn’t want to end it, and you know I’m still –“ He stopped. “You know why this was a really bad idea. And I can’t even figure out why we started having sex in the first place.”

“I felt really broken for a long time, but I feel less like that lately,” Hermione said, finally. “I feel like I thought this was going to be… I don’t know. Closure. Something.”

“I’m fine with that,” Draco said. His voice broke a little. “But I might – can I just have the rest of the night before you go?”

“Did you really not want to end it?” Hermione said. “We were making each other miserable.”

“I wanted to stop making each other miserable, I didn’t want to stop being married,” Draco said. “But you didn’t want to stay married.”

“The thing where you don’t tell me what you want,” Hermione said. “That’s not just in bed, is it?”

“You were really set on everything,” Draco said, finally. “And I was too tired to fight you on it.”

“The problem is,” Hermione said, “I didn’t actually want to end it either. I thought you didn’t want to stay married.”

“That’s not what you said,” Draco said.

“I was hurt and scared,” Hermione said. “And phenomenally stupid. I didn’t think you’d want to hear it. I’ve always –“ She looked at him. “I’ve worried since our first date that you’d change your mind. I’m not easy to live with. I make a lot of mistakes. I hold things back when I’m afraid of getting hurt. You could have anyone, you could have someone better. I just thought you’d finally realized that.”

“I still haven’t changed my mind,” Draco said. “I’ve always loved you more than anything.” He reached to run his fingers through her hair. “You’re not easy, but I hate easy. I just spent the whole time thinking I loved you a little more than you loved me. It was just enough to make me worry you’d want something more than that someday.”

“I think we might have had this really stupid marriage where we never talked about anything that mattered,” Hermione said. “And, apparently, where we were both afraid of letting on how much we loved each other.”

“I think so,” Draco said. “Maybe it’s good to say so. Closure, or whatever it is.”

“I said that’s what I thought this was going to be about,” Hermione said. “Except I keep wanting to just sleep in the same place and patch you up after you do idiotic things at work and come eat lunch in your office.”

“Maybe that means we can be friends,” Draco said.

“Maybe that means I don’t want to be friends,” Hermione said, softly.

“There has to be something,” Draco said. “I can’t just pretend I don’t know you. Or keep fighting.”

“You said I knew how you felt about me, but I don’t think I do. Maybe I never did,” Hermione said.

“I never stopped being incredibly in love with you,” Draco said, quietly. “That’s what I meant. I thought you knew that.”

“I didn’t know,” Hermione said. “Honestly.”

“I don’t know what this means,” Draco said. “Can you –“ He rubbed a hand over his face. “Can you tell me what you’re trying to say?”

“I need a few minutes to think,” Hermione said.

Draco started to draw back. “I can go to –“ he started.

“I’m going to need you to stop assuming I want you anywhere than right next to me,” Hermione said, gently, pulling him back down. “Quit trying to run off.”

“I don’t want you to go away completely,” Draco said. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I –“

“Stop talking,” Hermione said, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m not going anywhere.” She reached a hand up to spread it across his chest. “Really. And I’m glad you said something.”

“Okay,” Draco said. She could feel his heart racing under her palm.

“I didn’t stop loving you either,” she said, after a moment. “And given that neither of us wanted to end things, maybe we shouldn’t have.”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” Draco said. “Given that we already ended them.”

“Maybe not,” Hermione said. “Do you think maybe you’d want to try this again?”

“This?” Draco said.

“Us,” Hermione said. “Being together.”

“Oh,” Draco said.

“We can talk about it if you want,” Hermione said. “It’s a lot. You don’t have to decide tonight. I just thought maybe…”

“I don’t need to wait to decide,” Draco said. “I know what I want. But I’m afraid to say it. I don’t want you to change your mind.”

“You’re okay,” Hermione said, softly. “I think we should extend the off-limits thing.” She kissed his temple. “Or part of it, anyway. I don’t think we can promise never to get in a single argument. But I won’t be mean or petty. You should stop being afraid of telling me things. I’ll do my best to quit holding back because I’m scared you’ll leave.”

“I don’t think I can be perfect at any of that,” Draco said. “Or even much good at some of it.”

“Of course you can’t, I can’t either,” Hermione said, gently. “It’s going to take work. We’re both going to have to work. We have to figure out how to talk to each other. We probably need to get help figuring out how to do that. That’s a lot. But I was willing to do that before, and I should have said so. I’m still willing. And I can at least promise to be more patient.”

“I wanted to work on it too,” Draco said. “Before.” She watched him take a breath. “I want to now, too.”

“I love you a lot,” Hermione said, nudging her nose against his. “That seems like it might make it worth working on.”

“We might have to start over from the beginning,” Draco said. “We might still completely fuck it up.”

“We probably do, and we might,” Hermione said. “But we already completely fucked it up.” She laughed softly. “I mean, we really can’t do it worse than the first time.”

“It might be possible,” Draco said, finally. “I mean, neither of us ever set anything on fire. There are probably new lows to explore.”

“I’m okay with avoiding that,” Hermione said, curling closer. “You can start fires in the fireplace if you’d like. Be adventurous.”

“Can I burn expense reports?” Draco said.

“If you’ve already made copies,” Hermione said. “In triplicate.”

“I’ll just do Harry’s,” Draco said. “Then it’s his problem.”

Hermione laughed. “At least until he catches on.”

“You say that like you think he will,” Draco said. “I mean, he hasn’t noticed you’re in my bedroom yet.”

“Point,” Hermione said, laughing.

Draco finally leaned in to kiss her.

“Can I, you know, ask for something?” he said.

“You’d better,” Hermione said. “I’m going to be very disappointed if we’ve gone to all the trouble of talking and you still don’t feel okay about it.”

“I think I want to keep the original rules for the actual bed,” Draco said. “Do you think we could? I like this. I want to make sure that even if we’re mad at each other or tired or – the rest of it, that… we can still have this. I really hated going to sleep angry.”

“You might have to stop sleeping in your office,” Hermione said.

“Hey,” Draco said. “I haven’t slept there all week. You lured me away with sex and actual pillows.”

“And I should probably have concerns about this new chair you like so much,” Hermione said. “Don’t get any ideas about sleeping in it.”

“I’m willing to extend bed rules to your desk, my desk, the shower, and my chair,” Draco said, thoughtfully. “I think that’s fair.”

“That means you can’t say you’d rather spend the night with dementors while you’re sitting in it,” Hermione said.

“I don’t know,” Draco said. “Azkaban seems awfully appealing in comparison to your freezing cold feet.”

“I guess I could go steal your socks,” Hermione said. “But I’m not sure I want to get dressed.”

“I thought we were going to sleep,” Draco said.

“You were sort of distracted before,” Hermione said. “I think I want a do over.”

“I was preoccupied with worrying about not having more sex,” Draco said. “And, you know, you never talking to me again.”

“Well, I’m not talking to you for at least the next half hour,” Hermione said. “Or, more accurately, you’re not talking to me. I promise to make plenty of noise.”

“I forgot to think about that kind of not talking,” Draco said, thoughtfully. “It would definitely have made the sex better.”

“I liked the sex,” Hermione said. “However, I’d also like more sex.” She nudged his shoulder, amused. “Go do something about that.”

“Okay, but only because you asked nicely,” Draco said, laughing.

After Draco had finally fallen asleep, Hermione went to the kitchen.

“So,” Harry said, thoughtfully. He was leaning against the fridge.

“Are you actually drinking milk straight from the carton?” Hermione said.

“Are you actually in our kitchen at two in the morning wearing one of Draco’s shirts?” Harry said.

“You weren’t supposed to be awake,” she said, going to get a glass for water. She handed him a glass too.

“Sorry, I got thirsty,” Harry said. “And, you know, had the audacity to leave my bedroom.”

“Not allowed,” Hermione said, laughing. “Don’t make me consider locking you in there at night to keep you from going to work.”

“I think I’ve just figured out why you two keep leaving early,” Harry said. “I knew there was something off about that chair thing.”

“Shockingly, sleep really has been involved,” Hermione said.

Harry took another drink of milk. “Is this a thing now?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said.

“I was wondering when he was going to get his act together and make a move,” Harry said.

“Actually,” Hermione said, “I kissed him first.”

“Whatever,” Harry said. “I have house rules if we’re sharing the kitchen in the middle of the night.”

“Oh?” Hermione said.

“No criticizing my milk habits, don’t use up all the hot water, and if you’re going to have obnoxiously loud sex you can have it at your flat,” Harry said. “And you have to get me a new chair.”

“The last one isn’t a rule,” Hermione said, laughing.

“You have to get me a new chair every time you break any of the other rules,” Harry said. “You already told me off about the milk.”

“We may have to branch out into other office furniture,” Hermione said. “I’m never going to stop telling you to get a glass.”

“Now you owe me a chair _and_ a file cabinet without a broken drawer,” Harry said.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Hermione said.


End file.
